


Blame It On Samson

by Charmolypi11



Category: IU (Musician)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Gen, Heavy Angst, High School, Mystery, Psychological Drama, Self-Acceptance, Self-Harm, Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 21:02:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10929981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charmolypi11/pseuds/Charmolypi11
Summary: Lee Jiuen has a problem. She has lost the white notebook containing the details for their sinking fund and everybody is slowly losing their patience. Jieun knows she can't keep on giving them excuses. A day will come where her secrets will be unveiled and when that day comes, Jieun's reputation will be crumpled into pieces.Out of the blue, a mysterious friend named Samson arrives into the picture and offers her a once-in-a-lifetime choice- destroy herself or let others destroy her. With the clock ticking, what would Jieun's decision be?Will she do the right thing?And why is Samson at fault?Story SummaryCharacters: Lee Jieun (IU)Genre:  Angst, Mystery, Young Adult®CharmolypiApril 29, 2017





	1. Foreword

* * *

DISCLAIMER

**This is a work of fiction.** Names, characters, businesses, places, events and, incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Do not copy, modify, alter, display, distribute, sell, broadcast, or transmit any material on this novel in any manner without the permission of the owner. 

TRIGGER WARNING:

The aim of this story is to deal about a character experiencing depression. Therefore, some parts of the story may trigger an adverse reaction. If it is beginning to upset you, I advise that you please stop reading it immediately for safety concerns.

 

 

 

 

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE

 Lately, I've been reading books such as David Leviathan's **A Lover's Dictionary** and Max Porter's **Grief Is The Thing with Feathers**. These kinds of books are written in short chapters and their way of writing are very risky for it is not the traditional one. I am in awe with the way Leviathan and Porter are able to experiment with their writing styles, therefore I have decided to create my own too. I'm not a professional yet, so bear with me for my mistakes. 

_**Blame It On Samson**_ will have short chapters (predicted average of 1k words) and will be updated randomly. But I swear I'm going to finish it right away. It's also a short story so maybe it'll only be ten chapters more or less.

If you're reading this, I would like to express my gratitude. If you plan to continue reading, I want to say thank you. If you subscribed, thank you. If you commented, thank you and I'm going to try my hardest to reply! If you're going to upvote, thank you very much. **Thank you for taking the time to read Blame It On Samson.**

This short story is dedicated to _June Ivy_. She might not read this, but you're the greatest friend ever!

 


	2. The First Sin

"Did you bring it?"

 

She looks at me, making sure I notice the intense glare she has been giving me these past few days that are meant to intimidate me. She wanted me to be wary, to cower at her presence and cry for help, apologize for being such a fool. Instead, I swallowed the lump in my throat and smiled. Jang Mari held up her palm. She's completely ignoring the stupid grin I plastered on my face. She's asking for it and she's not here to smile with me. She's stubborn.

 

"I... uh, I forgot it," I said.

 

"Again?"

 

I scrunch my eyebrows together. Don't worry, I'm disappointed in myself too, I try to tell her. I try not to mind the way her voice raised. I turned my attention to her hands and was awed with how skinny her wrist was. It looked like a stick that can snap with the slightest touch. 

 

Several classmates stared at the scene she was making. There they go again, I imagine them saying. I wanted to grab one of them and shout at the top of my lungs: I am innocent, I did not do wrong, I did a lot of things for you the past months, I made us win the annual Chuseok contest even though only the Seniors have won so far. I wanted to grab someone in the collar and ask them why they have turned their backs on me, why they now look at me as if I was an alien, and why no one can stand to be with me anymore. I wanted to let them know how much of a coward they were for putting the blame on a single person. I wanted to do these things, but I, too, am a coward. 

 

So I just continued smiling at them.

 

When I smile, people tell me I look beautiful. My eyes disappear and two crescent moons replace it. I assure them everything's under control. After a few seconds, they return to their own bubbles. I wonder if it's because they were flustered by my smile or if they just do not want to be bothered with my existence anymore. I'd prefer the former.

 

"I'm really sorry for doing this. I swear, I had it in my hand yesterday night while I was preparing my things. I promise you though-"

 

"That you'd bring it." Mari completes my sentence. She snickers and it takes my whole being to remain smiling at her. Must be calm. Must be calm. I recite my mantra over and over again. "Sure, I'd understand you, but this is the last. Jieun, for the sake of God, just. bring. the. notebook!" She punctuates her words with a flap of her skinny wrist. For a moment, I thought I should stop her. She might break her hand by doing those things. But then she adds, “ Or else we're going to report you!"

 

I nod. Then smile again. I put my hand under the desk to hide the way it was trembling. She looks at me one last time, anger visible in her brown eyes. Mari sighs. She walks away, bringing the sense of doom along with her. 

 

I released the breath I didn't know I was holding. Relief and worry greet me at once, a competition of which one is heavier. I had escaped for today, but I'm not sure if she'd let me go tomorrow. Her words sounded final, horrendous. Mari is getting impatient with every passing day and I'm short of excuses. I do not know how long I'll be able to keep this up.

 

I'm not even sure if I want to keep this up.

 

"That's the twelfth time already," Samson comments.

 

I glanced at Samson. He's sitting two chairs beside me, both of his feet at the desk. He was eating a whole roll of gimbap bare-handed even though it's not the time for recess yet. One of Mr. Kim’s one hundred and one rules in his biology class is to restrain yourself from putting anything in your mouth or else you’ll be sent to the disciplinary office.

 

"Mr. Kim's absent for today," Samson says matter-of-factly as if he was able to read what's on my mind.

 

I agreed. Mr. Kim caught pneumonia from being out for too long in the cold during one of his experiments with the Seniors. He's currently in a prescribed bed rest. Because of this, we have two hours of free time everyday until Friday, where a substitute teacher is rumored to arrive. 

 

Samson is making a mess. Every time he bites, one or two grains of rice falls into his unbuttoned uniform. Samson disregards the clutter and I am disgusted. He shrugs, arrogant. 

 

"It's not like anyone would care," Samson says. 

 

No one dares to go against Samson. He said it's because everyone- including the teachers- are afraid of him. I think it's because they do not want to be associated with Samson, the troublemaker, Samson, the black sheep, Samson, the kid with no future. 

 

If only it was him that lost it, maybe no one would care too. 

 

"Mari's irritating, you know," Samson continues our conversation. I scan the room to see if anyone heard his statement. "She acts like she's the president and demands you to do these things. She's not even a class officer. She's too high on her horse. You know what happens when someone's too high on her horse?" Samson pauses, waiting for me to answer. I don't. "The fall becomes more painful. So you better not climb any horse's back so you won't get hurt."

 

I peeked at my clasped hands under the desk. It still trembling, still frightened. My nails are clipped weirdly. It seemed like I developed a habit of biting my nails. The nail on my left pinky finger looked the worst. Samson continues to chatter but I'm not listening to him anymore.

 

He can't warn me not to climb any horse's back because I already did long ago.

 

And I'm afraid I have chosen the tallest horse. 


End file.
